


What's The Symbology There?

by slothfulzel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothfulzel/pseuds/slothfulzel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wakes up in a cave, Lucifer saves him from crazy demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's The Symbology There?

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive the title, Boondock Saints gives me feelings.

Smell was the first sense that came back to him. It wafted over the room in an ever-present fog; the pungent, deep smell of copper and sulfur, of mildew and something sickly sweet that reminded Sam of incense. All were scents that the Winchester knew intrinsically, enough to recognize that when they were put together as they currently were, he was in deep shit. And that much he knew before he even opened his eyes.

There wasn’t much light in the room but Sam’s eyes adjusted quickly. Blinking a few times, the ceiling came into view. Sam could tell that it was made of stone and it glistened with moisture. He came to the conclusion that he was in a cave. The smell of mildew only proved his theory, as did the sound of his unsteady breathing rebounding in echos off the stone walls. Sam was stunned for a second as feeling rushed back into his limbs. He was cold, damp, and there was a wicked draft blowing in from somewhere that made his fingers feel like ice. He couldn’t move his arms but his fingers wiggled next to his body and touched flesh. Sam quickly realized both that he was tied down to whatever he was currently laying on and that, to add insult to injury, he was buck-ass naked.

A low moan sounded from somewhere to Sam’s left, but all Sam could see were the walls. They were covered in a plethora of symbols, all painted in what looked to be red paint. Or blood. Sam, in his current predicament, decided it was safe to say that the substance was blood. He recognized some of the symbols, but couldn’t place where they were from. He was a bit too preoccupied with freaking the fuck out. 

The moan from the left suddenly raised in volume and pitch, turning into a scream. One scream bred another and another. All were steadily growing louder and the wet, slick sound of spilt blood and pain was adding itself to the voiced yells. Sam was getting the feeling back in his body so very slowly. He could tell that he had been drugged but he couldn’t remember anything before the moment he woke up in his current position. It took all of Sam’s self-control not to completely panic. Sam slammed his eyes shut at the sounds, and hoped that whatever happened, he’d die quick. 

A burst of light erupted in the room and the screams died down but Sam refused to open his eyes.

It seemed like hours passed before Sam was acknowledged. A cool hand pressed itself to his forehead. It was familiar, but in a strange way -- Sam could feel the pure, unadulterated power radiating from the being beside him. It was an angel. Sam opened his eyes. Slits of hazel met cool grey-blue.

“Sam.” Lucifer’s voice was soft in tone, calm but with the undertone of gravel and _Angel_ that told of power kept just at bay. Sam didn’t think his vocal cords could work. Lucifer unshackled Sam from the altar with a thought and Sam willed himself to speak.

“I’m naked.” It wasn’t what Sam meant to say. Lucifer’s gaze softened in the slightest bit and Sam could feel the angel’s grace coating his body -- looking for injuries.

“I can see that, Sam.” Lucifer spoke as if he were speaking to a child, but the tone held a sliver of fondness that made Sam smile weakly.

“Cold.” Sam’s body shivered of its own accord as if to emphasize the word. Lucifer simply nodded and placed two fingers to Sam’s forehead. They were transported away immediately.

...

When Sam awoke for the second time that night, he found himself in another unfamiliar place. A motel this time, by the looks of it. Sam groaned low in his throat as he shifted and checked for completely operative motor skills on his part, but the Winchester stilled immediately as a warmth at his side moved at his motions. Sam relaxed quickly however, as Lucifer’s grace reached out to him once more. The conflicting sensations of warmth and cold washed over him like water, and Sam surrendered himself to the comforting phenomenon.

“What happened?” Sam said as Lucifer wrapped an arm around Sam’s chest. Sam leaned up a bit as Lucifer’s other arm wiggled itself under his head. Now fully encased in Lucifer’s embrace, Sam waited with infinite patience. He was content to just fall back to sleep, warm, comfortable, and safe in his angel’s arms. Lucifer tightened his grip minimally as he read Sam’s mind. The warmth of his grace expanded as he shifted ever closer to Sam, pressing them tightly together from chest to ankle. Sam wiggled back against Lucifer’s grasp and gave a silent sigh of contentment.

Neither of them spoke as Lucifer’s hand began to roam. It followed the natural dips and curves of Sam’s body, crossing over muscle, flesh, and bone with a tender reverence that always amazed Sam, considering that the being who was touching him was _Satan_. Lucifer’s fingers danced around the hem of Sam’s t-shirt -- Sam spared a moment to appreciate the angel’s thought to dress him -- before Lucifer skimmed under the edge of the cloth and stroked along Sam’s bare flesh.

The touch was a raging mess of contradictions. Warmth and cold, soothing comfort and burning hellfire, reverent adoration, the ghost of arrogance and slight hesitation -- the touch that made Sam come completely undone in just a matter of minutes.

Lucifer’s fingers stopped, though, and he pressed his palm to the thundering beat right above Sam’s heart. The angel’s voice was flat and emotionless as he spoke -- as if he was trying to hold himself back.

“They tried to take you away from me. They wanted to destroy your soul so I would be able to take your body and restart the Apocalypse.” Sam’s breath hitched but he stayed quiet. When Lucifer remained silent for a few moments, Sam’s hand found the one on his chest and grasped tightly before pulling away completely. Lucifer stiffened as Sam detached himself from the angel’s embrace. Lucifer’s mask slipped for a split second, showing a glimpse of quiet shock, as Sam quickly deposited himself back. Now on top of the angel, Sam did his best to look as submissive as he dared -- telling Lucifer through expression and touch just what he was thinking.

Settling himself down on Lucifer’s lap Sam took the angel’s face between both of his hands and leaned over until his lips just barely skimmed the other's. Sam didn’t pull back but he let Lucifer take control. Lucifer fisted his hands into Sam’s hair and pulled the human back down into a burning kiss that left them both breathless. As the Devil pulled back he kept his hands threaded through Sam’s hair and Sam rested his forehead against the man beneath him.

Sam pressed a gentle, adoring kiss at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth before he whispered his love into the Devil’s ear. Lucifer responded in kind by ravishing his human -- all the while murmuring his own declarations.


End file.
